


Be Your Valentino (Just For You)

by everywhere



Series: I'd Like For You And I To Go Romancing [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Hair Kink, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Maylor smut, Pet Names, Voice Kink, disco deaky, god this is so long im sorry, gratuitous description, horny affectionate boys??, horny boys, minor deacury, roger is a kinky bastard, who doesn't have a kink for rogers voice tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywhere/pseuds/everywhere
Summary: Just watch someone perform. You won’t regret it.ORGoddammit, Brian looks hot when he performs. So does Roger.Title taken from “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy”





	Be Your Valentino (Just For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl, purely self-indulgent. Also, time period? What’s that??

Brian fucking loves watching his band mates as they perform. It’s the best way to know someone, and just so happens to be really hot.  
Freddie was the obvious choice if you needed an evening of watching someone who knew they were incredibly attractive and _absolutely flaunted_ it. Watching him galavant around the stage, his hips making contact with whatever he could find, always showing _far_ too much skin for a public place and making beautiful sounds with his vocal chords. Damn, you felt those in the pit of your stomach and if you paid too much attention, they’d reverberate around your entire body. Entirely inappropriate for someone trying to concentrate.

John was the one to watch if you were in the mood for something silly, where you’d definitely be laughing the whole way through sex. Not that Brian thought about having sex with them (not often, anyway). He’d adopted Freddie’s extravagant approach to fashion and his dance moves were genuinely _incredible_ , the way he’d hop and spin on the spot, his head swinging in time. Watching his fingers dance over the strings of a bass guitar was truly something else, they made you wonder if he was truly human. The way that he smiled so big at the shows, his cheeks and eyes crinkling up in such a way that made their collective hearts melt if they glanced at him at the right time.

Roger was a crowd favourite. And Brian could see why, his blonde hair brushing his shoulders as he swung his arms and stuck his tongue out, ever so slightly, in concentration. He was at the back of the stage, the lights forming a halo around him, which was appropriate. Roger looked like an angel. His brows furrowed, but only a little, the only symptoms of physical exertion the sweat that trailed from his forehead to the opening of his vest. He’d recently taken to not wearing a shirt, which the fans seemed to really appreciate (and so did Brian, he wasn’t going to lie). He loved the way it made the tension in his muscles so obvious, you’d most likely be able to take a full anatomy lesson looking at him. He especially loved that because he was so short, he often had to stand slightly to be able to properly hit the drums. He’d hate to admit any of this detail that he knew about Roger to him, save he feed his ego. Roger knew he was beautiful.  
Brian watched him for far too long all the time, getting so caught up in his drumming that he sometimes missed the minor parts of his role.

But Roger felt the same way about Brian. He tried not to look at him when he caught the guitarist watching him. Which was more often than Brian was likely ready to admit. _The fucking prude_.  
But, he did immensely enjoy watching Brian perform. His fingers literally blazing over the frets of Red Special- Roger wasn’t too good at physics but he guessed if they moved any faster he’d have burning hands. He found it hilarious that whenever he winked at him, his fingers would stumble ever so slightly that only he’d notice. And whenever he got especially into what he was doing, he’d automatically raise his left leg and let it dangle. It was so endearing. He wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose, but damn, was it hot in the weirdest way to watch.  
Brian’s hair was what Roger really loved to see. The layers of curls that somehow had their own gravity. The way it bounced with even the slightest movement, the way he’d then use his long fingers to push it out of the way. He wondered what it would be like to thread his fingers through it, to pull and tug at it. Brian’s _hair_.  
“Oh my god,” Roger mouthed to himself, turning away from his microphone, “Brian is fucking gorgeous.”

Of course, they weren’t entirely unacquainted with each other. They’d had their own moments in which they’d decided, either drunk or sober, that they’d _really_ like to kiss the other one. They only had their relatively infrequent make-outs when something had happened, a stupid, spur of the moment decision that neither one ended up regretting. It was a sort of unspoken rule that they were occasionally each other’s comfort when they were especially lonely, but nothing past that.  
Just comfort.  
But neither of them could forget the fact they knew the way each other felt, how Roger was dominant and needy but soft at the same time, how Brian tapped his fingers on the small of Rogers back in a way that felt like heaven. Like he was in control but only passively. Roger knew that the prude would melt when you did anything vaguely sexual to him, his eyes half-lidded and moans ever-so-soft. 

This was the only thing on Rogers mind as he watched Brian play, his foot dangling in the air the way it always did. He’d twirled his foot so that the lead wrapped around his ankle, something Roger could not stop staring at. He looked down.  
_‘Focus, Roger.’_ The show was nearly over, he just had to focus on drumming and not how incredibly hot Brian was being tonight. He decided instead to listen to Freddie’s beautiful vocals.  
Brian had a similar thought process, he’d decided also to focus on the singer. But they both shot each other quick glances. 

It turned out focusing on the lyrics was not a good idea for the next song. Or, it was because they both had quite a lot of singing to do in it. On the other hand, they couldn’t help but look at each other when they sang _“Lover boy”_ together, their faces growing redder every time it happened.  
Roger had enough. He’d decided he would be making out with the gorgeous, curly-haired guitarist tonight. He was just being too hot. Perhaps Roger was just paying more attention tonight, and he was being normal. That’s beside the point. He had to let Brian know of this.  
As Freddie sung _“I’d like for you and I to go romancing”_ he made sure Brian was looking, which was getting increasingly easier, and winked at him. 

This confidence, the open invitation turned Brian on. He was sure his face had gone bright red as he looked at his feet, pushing the Red Special against himself slightly harder. He heard Roger laugh softly as he sang his next line, shooting him a dirty look. Getting him flustered in front of fans was no laughing matter. What if Freddie or John -or, even worse, the fans, noticed? Roger just stuck his tongue out at him.  
He spent the rest of the night pointedly not looking at Roger.  
Which was _extremely fucking hard_ because, of course, Roger had a solo in the song. His raspy, lower tones went straight to his dick and Brian turned his back on their drummer. 

The taxi ride back to the hotel was silent, full of Roger smiling, staring at Brian and Brian scowling at him. When they arrived in the hallway, John and Freddie made it abundantly clear they did not want to be disturbed- and that they wouldn’t be disturbing- by grabbing each other and flailing into one of the rooms. The last sound either of them heard from the pair (at least for a while) was the door slamming shut.

“You bastard.” Roger chided, walking in to the room left over, Brian close on his heels.  
“I’m the bastard?” He responded, pushing Roger onto the couch and throwing himself in his lap. “You were the one eye-fucking me all night.” Roger must have really gotten to him. He’d sworn twice in one sentence. They stared at each other for what felt like a minute on fire until Roger finally decided to kiss the man sitting in his lap.  
After the events of the night, watching him and being incredibly distracted by his plain _beauty_ , feeling Brian’s lips on his was like a dunk into cold water. He moved his lips furiously against his, pushing his fingers into the bony hips above him. He pulled away, grazing his teeth against the guitarists bottom lip as he left.  
“You’re the one who’s so fucking gorgeous” he said, placing his lips right under Brian’s ear and sucking, dragging his nails up his torso.  
He’d never been called gorgeous before. Brian sighed one of his breathy, exasperated moans, trying to squirm away from him. He wanted no visible evidence that _this_ ever happened. As much as he wanted it to continue.  
“What’s wrong, Bri?” Roger pulled away, “I want everyone to know you’re _mine_. That I get to be with _you_ like this.” There was something in Rogers commanding voice that made Brian wrap one of his arms around his waist and the other on the back of his head, pushing him back to where he was.  
_Continue_ , his actions spoke.  
Roger had the audacity to chuckle. To fucking chuckle, biting at Brian’s earlobes, licking at his collar bone. Brian could do nothing but lean back and take it, his mind too preoccupied to think of something to do in return. He shifted in his lap, wrapping his arms around the blondes back, pulling him closer. Roger’s mouth suddenly left his neck and he looked him in the eyes before kissing him again. Brian opened his mouth when Roger bit again at his bottom lip. He hated to admit, but he was _loving_ this biting. He wasn’t sure whether he was normally this aggressive, he’d forgotten most of the details of their previous sessions.  
_’Most likely’_ , he thought, moaning softly as Roger slid his tongue into his mouth. 

Brian was not as well-versed in sexual endeavours as Roger. Roger was far more promiscuous than he was, but he did want to let him know he wasn’t so straight-laced. The only way he could think of doing that was to suck on Roger’s tongue, pressing calloused fingertips into his hipbones, rolling his hips down. Underneath him, Roger shuddered. He felt fingers on his thighs, as if the man below him was holding on for dear life. Roger, unsurprisingly, was extremely vocal, his whines and moans raspy like his voice always was- but the high-pitched noises that left his throat were truly a work of art. Brian would record them and put it on an album if he could.  
Brian loved the thought that he had him at his complete mercy. He let Roger’s tongue go, only to lick and nibble across his pink lips, trailing down his neck. He felt Roger’s nails drag up his sides under his shirt, breaking contact with him only to let him lift it. Roger’s hands returned to his sides nearly as quickly as Brian put his lips back on Roger’s neck.  
“Why is mine still on?” Roger managed, digging his nails into Brian’s hips. Even when they were like this, he still managed to be a little shit. Kind of hot, to be honest.  
“Because I haven’t taken it off yet.” Brian responded, going back to sucking his skin red. Roger pushed his bare chest, attempting to get up from underneath him. The guitarist had decided he was not going anywhere, which did not suit Roger at all. He resorted to grabbing Brian’s wrists as he raised his leg and pushed them so that they were sideways on the couch.  
This shocked Brian into stopping, giving the drummer an opportunity to push him back onto the couch after pulling his own shirt off. He wasn’t sure why he’d even tried to give a fight, Roger was quite obviously stronger than him. Brian spread his legs and he slid his body between them, reaching up to peck his lips, his nose, his forehead. Their usual was purely lust and loneliness, driven not by each other but their surroundings.  
This was different. Sure, they were (more accurately, Roger was) being incredibly aggressive, but those kisses were pure affection. They’d made each other like this, it wasn't them horridly drunk or high or an adrenaline rush from something with the band, but each other. Brian smiled, closing his eyes.  
Below him, with his hair spread around his head and his skin flushed and bruised, Brian looked _amazing_.  
“Bri,” he said affectionately, “you look beautiful,” and Brian kissed him again. This time it was soft and tender and slow. Brian’s hands stroked down Roger’s spine gently, their tongues meeting but not fighting. This was warmth. He let his hands play with the blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, twirling it around his long fingers. Roger gasped suddenly,  
“Brian.” He said very seriously. 

Brian’s immediate instinct was to think he’d done something wrong. He immediately took his hands off Roger and sat up as best he could.  
“What’s wrong, angel?” He asked, surprising even himself with the sudden use of a pet name. Roger went red.  
“Nothing,” he sighed, kissing his nose again. “It’s a dumb question.”  
_’Oh, a question.’_ Brian thought.  
“It’s not.” He reassured, smiling softly at him. The drummer took in a sharp breath.  
“Can I please play with your hair?” He spluttered, too fast for Brian to understand.  
“Didn’t catch that?” He asked, sure the sentence had ‘please’ in it, which was unusual for him.  
“Can I please,” he took in another breath, “play with your hair?” Brian understood this time, and laughed. The blonde hung his head, redder than before.  
“I told you it was a dumb question.” He mumbled. Brian kissed his forehead, wrapping his arms around him.  
“Why do you need to ask?”  
“I love your hair,” He stated simply. “I think it’s really beautiful. I think you’re really beautiful.” It was Brian’s turn to blush and hang his head.  
“Really?”  
_”Really.”_ This time when they met again, it was a mix of the aggressive pining from before and the slow and warm of affection. Their lips moving together, Brian felt Roger’s hands snake through his hair, clearly not used to curls. His fingers scraped his scalp as they got tangled in them, and Brian went back to biting and sucking the pale skin before him. 

Roger was anything but gentle. The way he tangled his fingers in Brian’s hair as he pulled at it was so much. He grabbed the guitarists hair in a fist and pulled back, forcing Brian’s head down onto the couch. He moaned a lot louder than he normally did and pushed his hips against Roger. It was becoming ever-so-evident they were both enjoying this very much.  
“ _Fuck,_ ” Roger groaned, opening his deep blue eyes to look at Roger with a look of pure pleasure. Why Brian didn’t immediately think to take off their pants, he didn’t know. That look could have made him come on the spot. Instead, he continued to roll his hips against Roger, and they were soon in unison: with Roger continuing to pull on Brian’s hair as he nipped at his jawline, any piece of skin he could find.  
The high whines from earlier had nothing on this, the sounds Roger made as their clothed erections met were heavenly, Brian’s hands scratching at his back in a desperate attempt to ground himself.  
“God, you’re such a fucking tease.” Roger growled, reaching for Brian’s belt and sliding it out from underneath him. He gripped Brian’s wrists and held them firmly above his head with one hand, the other fiddling with the button of his jeans and fly.  
“Off.” He demanded, lifting his hips so Brian could wriggle off his jeans and boxers from underneath him, grip staying firm on one wrist and taking the other back when he was done. Brain was really not used to the way Roger did things, and whined at the loss of control.  
“Keep them there.” He said, pushing his wrists down but letting go as he did. “Don’t fucking move.” 

Roger shifted down Brian’s body, biting and sucking as he went, pushing his knees apart. He came to a stop just above his pelvic bone and pulled himself down so he was eye-level with Brian’s cock. He kissed and nipped at the skin on his thighs, making sure to take his time, to savour the repeating, desperate moans as Brian tried to keep still. He made sure to leave marks, getting so damn close to his erection, letting his mouth travel up both thighs.  
"Since you were such a tease earlier, it's my turn now." He mused out loud.  
"Sure, I was the only tease. Your voice is so _hot_." A desperate Brian responded, unable to filter his thoughts. Roger trailed his tongue back up his body and grabbed his wrists again, kissing him viciously. His fingertips pinned him down again, Roger being so attractive that Brian no longer cared for him leaving visible marks. Which he was most likely covered in.  
"I had a feeling you thought that," Roger drawled, making his way back down to Brian's thighs. "I've seen what you do when I sing."  
"And I've seen you stare at my hair nearly an entire show," Brian groaned as he felt a bite on his shoulder, "I'm not the only pining one, fuck you."  
"One step at a time, love." He was biting at the join between his thigh and crotch, letting his nose brush against the tip of Brian's cock, fingers anchored in hipbones. The feeling of Roger's mouth so close to him, his voice, calling him _love_ , was all too much.  
"I swear to God, Roger, if you don't suck me off right now I'll make sure this never happens again." He demanded. The request was met with a breathy laugh and Brian felt it against his skin. The blonde lifted his head and looked up at Brian, who wrapped his legs around Roger’s torso and closed his eyes. 

For someone so aggressive, the way Roger took Brian in his mouth was so gentle. The drummer had only had the tip on his lips, licking at it and occasionally taking it deeper into his mouth. His grip had loosened on the guitarists hips and he ghosted his fingers over the warm skin there. This was so unlike Roger, it seemed like it wasn’t even him. The familiarity of those fingertips reminded him that it was, the blonde hair brushing his thighs as Roger moved up and down on him an entirely new sensation that Brian would be happy to feel forever. They had previously come very close to this, but never made it this far. Now, though, both of them wished they’d discovered each other far sooner.  
It was the best, most addictive feeling either of them had ever felt.  
As Roger continued to take more and more of Brian, he reached up and twirled his fingers through the curly hair that was now half-damp with sweat. At this, Brian squeezed him harder with his legs, burying his hands in his hair, anything to try and keep himself from floating away with pleasure. The sudden pressure and contact made Roger hum around Brian’s dick, opening his mouth further and licking harder.  
And God, did that feel _amazing._ In his few past endeavours, Brian had never been one to scream. But the feeling of Roger’s humming around his dick, his fingers playing in his hair, caught up with him and he let out a loud wail of pleasure, pressing his ankles harder into Roger’s back. Soon, he was thrusting his hips into Roger’s mouth, whining as the drummer took it without trouble. The hand that wasn’t already playing with Brian’s curls brushed over his stomach as he reached for more of his hair. The soft touch made him shudder, his brain unable to process any more. The original gentleness Roger had started with was gone and replaced by pulling, scratching and moaning. Roger was ever-so-slightly letting his teeth brush on Brian’s cock as he bobbed up and down to the rhythm his hips had determined.  
The combination of all these feelings- Roger moaning against him, Roger pulling so hard at his hair, Roger licking his cock, just _Roger_ \- was all too much.  
“Rog,” he stuttered, “Rog.” It was all he could manage, but Roger knew what was going to happen. Brian felt the cold of Roger’s mouth leaving him and the warmth of Roger’s body sliding up against his. He whined at the stopping, only to be silenced by a warm, wet pair of lips against his open mouth and teeth biting his lips. 

Roger’s biting and pulling and scratching was met with high whines of desperation. He pushed his tongue into Brian’s mouth, scraping his nails against his scalp as he tangled his hands further into the endless curls. Brian sucked on it again, making Roger whine and push him into the couch with his hips.  
A hand left Brian’s hair, trailing down his torso and taking his cock. He pinched so slightly and pumped as he tugged again at his hair, gently sucking the corner of his mouth and then his jaw and then his neck.  
_“Fuck,”_ Brian moaned, returning Roger’s aggression by scratching his back. Roger heard him attempt to form a sentence, to no avail. His voice just broke and he whined as Roger wrapped his fist around him, pumping faster and harder than before. He returned his lips to the guitarists, contrasting the fast motions of his hand with slow, deep kisses, rolling his hips against Brian’s again. Brushing his thumb over the tip, Roger pulled hard at the curls he was still enthralled by. Calloused fingers pressed into his back, palms pushed at his sides as Brian fumbled for ground, bucking below him. He gasped, high and hoarse, onto his skin. Every pump from Roger’s hand was met with hips thrusting, harsh fingernails met with exasperated moans and whines.  
“Rog,” he groaned, _“Roger, please.”_ Brian’s hips fell out of rhythm and his grip tightened, however impossible it seemed, as his orgasm crashed through him. The drummer made sure to wring it out of him, revelling in the beautiful cries that left his mouth as he came undone. His come spilt over Rogers hand and between them, getting on Roger's jeans (which, somehow, were still on).  
Brian fell back against the couch and Roger followed, laying on his head on his chest and stroking his hair softly. He felt his breathing steady, still entirely aware of his own erection but enjoying this far too much to pay it any mind. Neither of them particularly seemed to care that they were also laying in Brian's come. 

When Brian was finally able to process thoughts, he panicked.  
"Roger, your trousers."  
"What about 'em?" The blonde responded, softly kissing his neck.  
"They're, they're..." This Brian was entirely different from the one he had just blown. The whines and moans replaced with a timid voice, too shy to say anything about sex.  
Roger hummed against his neck. "What are you gonna do about it?" He said, kissing him gently on the lips, holding his head like something fragile. It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen again, Roger pressing his hips hard against Brian. This gentle, tender kissing seemed to last forever. It would've been pleasant, save for the come on both of them. Roger pulled away.  
"I'll be back," he reassured, heading to the bathroom. Brian sat up, but closed his eyes, ready to drift into sleep. The drummer appeared in the doorframe, his jeans cleaned. Most notably though, his skin was bruised all along his collar, his back covered in scratches and neck covered in purple marks. Without his usual energy, he leaned against the door, breathing heavily, holding a washcloth in his hands. Roger looked ethereal, blonde hair resting on his spotted shoulders and hand slightly palming his dick.  
"Come here, angel." Brian said, unsure of how long he had been watching him. At least now he knew why he called him that. Roger obliged, quickly wiping him down before climbing onto the curly-haired mans lap. Brian pulled him in, kissing him languidly. Roger felt fingers at his waistband.  
"I can't believe I forgot about you." He mused, cupping Roger through the fabric. Brian sucked his neck, licking and biting as he went.  
"Wrap your legs around me, Rog," He instructed, bringing his arms down around his ass. He felt a pair of legs snake around his waist. "Hold on. Bring that with you." He gestured to the cloth. 

Slightly confused, Roger did so, squeezing Brian with his legs and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Beneath him, Brian stood up, holding Roger's little body up and continuing to kiss his neck. He was slow, lazy, Roger could feel how tired he was as he carried Roger to the bed. He felt Brian sit him down and land in his lap, pushing him onto the bed so he lay on top of him. Slow kisses were pressed into every inch of his skin, Brian's hands exploring every part of his body as he did so. This was so different to what Roger was used to, the slow, gentle way Brian kissed him- but it felt so _good_. He felt Brian making a path along his stomach, kissed getting lower and lower. He felt Brian's hair dragging against his skin as the guitarist moved down his body. The curls brushing his bare skin made him shudder, rolling his hips up to Brian, burying his hands in his hair as if to say _'Hurry up'_.   
It took an eternity, but Brian's hands finally made their way to Roger's belt and he undid it, dropping it on the floor beside him, pulling his pants and boxers down and leaving those there too. Brian took his time sucking the skin on Roger's hips, the inside of his thighs. At least they didn't have a show tomorrow, they could take as long as they wanted: Which Roger was having conflicting thoughts about, he both wanted Brian to never stop what he was doing and to hurry up and touch him.   
Lost in thought, he barely noticed Brian's lips against his again. Brian had laced his hands in the blondes hair, touch so faint that he could barely feel it.   
God, he was so gentle.  
Roger sighed against him, feeling his hands in Brian's hair and his erection against Brian's skin. Their tongues met, warmth encompassing them. 

"What do you want, Rog?" Brian asked Roger, pulling away from their kiss after what seemed like forever. Roger's blissful face below him was beautiful. He pressed his forehead against his.   
"I want you, Bri." He whispered, lips nearly touching.   
"What do you want me to do?" "Touch me," Roger sighed, "I've seen what you can do on a guitar, I want to see how that feels." He leaned his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. With a quick peck, Brian took Roger in his hand and started stroking his erection slowly. He felt Roger's hands still in his hair tighten and his breath hitch. Roger's thing for his hair was really cute.   
Brian pressed his lips against his perfect jaw, lazily kissing his skin and moving to his earlobe every now and then, hand still wrapped around Roger.   
With every downwards movement, Roger lifted his hips up, whining high and loud. The sound went straight to Brian's head, making him pump the drummer harder and suck his skin so hard it nearly hurt. At that, Roger yelped in pleasure and pulled the curls harder.   
Brian's lips left his jaw and met with Roger's, messily colliding. Roger licked his lips, becoming more and more desperate by the second. He nibbled Roger's lips back, feeling him become less responsive as he was overcome by pleasure. Roger's lips suddenly left his, he'd thrown his head back and thrusted hard into Brian's hand, continuing to be incredibly vocal.   
Brian licked a stripe up Roger's neck, feeling him squirm underneath him, hips loosing their rhythm. He twisted his fingers around his length, pressing his lips hard into the blonde's neck.   
"Bri," he panted, attempting to continue speaking but just whined as he came. Brian did not let go until he was done, and even then he pumped once more and collapsed onto Roger's chest. Brian reached for the cloth that had earlier been laid on the night stand, slowly washing both himself and the other clean. Beneath him, he felt Roger's heavy breathing. Roger's eyes remained closed with his fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks flushed with excertion. He was a beautiful mess. 

Brian also looked wrecked, his body pressed warm against Roger as they lay there in silence, breathing together. After a while, Roger put a hand underneath Brian's chin and tilted his head up. He didn't really want to kiss him, but just to stare into the understanding hazel eyes. Brian smiled delicately at him, lacing his hand in Roger's at their sides.   
"You're gorgeous." Roger smiled back at him, turning his lips up in the most endearing way.   
"So are you." Was all the response he got before Brian kissed him quickly and rolled off him, turning off the light.

**Author's Note:**

> I intend for this to be a 3-part series but who knows if I'll get around to it


End file.
